Chapter 12 - "Talk Show Host" - Tweedle-Tay's Story
April 24th, 2000 - Chicago, Illinois
"Do you want your hair up or down?" the make-up artist asked me, playing with my hair.
"Down," I replied firmly.
I could see her make a face in the mirror. "Maybe we should wash it first. It's a little greasy."
I walked over to the basin and let the woman wash my hair. "What's your name?" I asked, trying to be friendly.
"Sophie," she replied, running the water through my hair.
"Mine's-" I began.
"I know," she said, cutting me off. "It's Tweedle-Tay." She paused. "Are you nervous?" she asked.
"A little," I admitted. Sophie beckoned for me to stand up and I walked back to the make-up chair. "It's been ages since I've been on television and now when I'm going on, it's because...."
Sophie looked sympathetic as she began to blow-dry my hair. "I know, I heard." She sighed. "It really is terrible that anyone could do that sort of thing to their own child." She paused and made an effort to smile. "But I'll be watching you on the monitors, rooting for you."
"Thanks," I said gratefully.
Sophie finished brushing my hair. "There," she said, pleased with her work. "You look much better now. You do have good hair you know, a nice colour..... And now, the make-up.... You'll just need a foundation, to cover those zits -"
Well, that was a confidence booster.
"And some lipgloss. Standard male make-up."
Sophie and I made small talk until she had finished the make-up. Then it was Grubbery's turn. I thanked her and made my way down the hallway to look for Michaela, who was probably in wardrobe. As I made my way down the hallway I heard a voice call out from behind me. "TJ!"
It was Alisha. I turned around and sure enough, there she was, looking beautiful as always, in black Capri pants and a blue knit top. "Alisha!" I called, running towards her in excitement. We hugged and kissed. It had been so long since I'd kissed Alisha, almost a month. "You look.... stunning..." I said, looking her up and down.
"Likewise," she said. She licked her lips. "Strawberry flavoured lipgloss," she observed. "They sure do make you up here."
I smiled. "I guess you're wondering why I invited you here....." I began.
Alisha nodded. "Well, I did at first but -" She paused. "I don't live in a hole, Tweedle-Tay," she said emphatically. "There've been ads on TV all week - that's how they got the studio audience, who, I have to tell you, are a bunch of freaks."
"So, you don't mind?" I asked.
Alisha looked thoughtful. "Well, I don't mind that you're Tweedle- Tay Manson, although God knows I hated him..... but I do mind that you lied to me like this." She pouted. "Don't you trust me, Tweedle-Tay?"
"Of course I trust you!" I protested.
Alisha shook her head. "I don't think you do. Your sister *was* Michaela Morgan, wasn't she?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
"You didn't even tell me that." Alisha was starting to look pissed off. "You see, Tweedle-Tay, I think trust is the most important aspect of a relationship." She laughed. "That's probably why I have such a shit relationship with my parents. But you didn't trust me. Basically, the entire personality you threw at me was a lie...."
"So you're saying?"
"Well, if there's no trust, there's no relationship. So we didn't really have a relationship." Alisha kissed me softly on the lips. "Thanks for the ticket to Chicago though."
"That's okay," I said quietly. I took her hand. "I'm really sorry I lied to you, Alisha," I said earnestly. "But I had to. You'll understand why when you watch the show. Then you'll understand. And then, we can get back together?"
Alisha shrugged and smiled. "Maybe," she said weakly. "I'll have to see."
"Maybe?" I asked, sadly. "Please.... Alisha, I love you...." I leant down and kissed her.
"We'll see," Alisha pulled away. "I'll see you later." And with that she walked down the hallway towards the studio.
I walked down the hallway too, towards wardrobe. When I arrived there I was handed black leather pants and a tight black top. It was a cool outfit. Stylists had great taste. I got changed into the clothes and walked out to the backstage area, where Michaela was sitting, biting her fingernails.
"Don't do that," I said cheerfully, sitting next to her. "You'll chip your nail polish."
Michaela looked up at me and smiled. "I'm not biting my fingernails," she said. "I'm biting my fingers. My nail polish won't get chipped that way."
"Are you nervous about the singing?" I asked her.
She shrugged. "I don't know. I've heard that this was pretty heavily advertised on television. I'm a little worried about all those people hearing me. I mean, we're even on prime time, which is pretty unusual - that's why I made them let me chose my own clothes -" Michaela gestured towards her black leather mini-skirt and tight red shirt. She looked at my clothes. "We're going to look like a S&M group...." she said, giggling. "No, I'm worried about the revenge plan."
"What about it?" I asked. I thought the revenge plan was going great.
"Well, what if this show doesn't work out? What if everyone thinks we're in the wrong? What if our parents sue us for defamation? What is they decide to kill us instead? What if-??" Michaela began to list all of her worries.
I smiled to myself. "Michaela, you're always freaking out like this, but does anything bad actually ever happen?"
Michaela frowned. "Well, yes, it does. We got locked up in an attic and Grubbery went into a coma. Those are just two bad things that have happened. You're the one who worries about silly things, like people thinking you're gay and the attic getting flooded with blood!" Michaela began to laugh at the silliness of it all.
"Kay, I think everyone's going to be on our side. Our parents are 1000% in the wrong and you know it. I think even *they* know it," I explained.
Michaela nodded. "You're right there Tay. I know it's a little late to be saying this, but what is the point of us doing this? How are we going to find happiness by going on the -" Michaela paused and a made a face "-Oprah Winfrey show?"
"Our parents will get punished the way that they deserve," I replied. "Then we can get on with our lives."
"But what if we can't?" she persisted. "What if we just stay like this forever? What if our innocence has been destroyed so much that we -"
"Michaela, you're being silly. This is all inside you're head. We're going to be happy. Aren't we always happy together?" I asked. "Don't we have fun?"
Michaela nodded. "Most of the time...." There was a silence. I looked at Michaela. She looked back at me. "We do get along...." she said softly. I moved closer to her. She looked down at her skirt and then back up at me. "Maybe too well..." she said, leaning over.
We kissed. And kissed. And kissed. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Michaela quickly pulled away. "We're going on the Oprah Winfrey show," she said excitedly, as though nothing had happened.
Grubbery walked into the room. "Hi guys!" he said, sitting down next to us. "What have you been up to?"
"Nothing," Michaela replied, a little too quickly.
"Nothing," I said, just as quickly. "Why would you think that we'd been up to something?"
Grubbery looked at us, surprised. "No reason. Are you excited?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
"Hopefully we'll get asked better questions this time than we did last time," he added.
"Well, you do have something important to talk about now," Michaela said.
"Yeah, although it's not exactly-" I was cut off by a tall man who came running into the room.
"Kids, you're going on in about thirty seconds," he said, catching his breath. He led us to the opening of the stage. "All set?" he asked. He didn't wait for us to reply. "When she says Manson and all the girls start to scream, you guys run on and start to sing. Okay?" He ran off.
"I love it how they treat us with so much respect," Michaela said sarcastically. I didn't have time to reply because within a couple of seconds the screaming had begun. We ran out onto the stage and waved. When we got to the microphones we began to sing 'MMMPop' a capella. It sounded pretty good. Michaela had a higher voice than Grubbery had had at eleven, so she was actually better than he had been at hitting the high notes. Grubbery could do Neuton's part easily. And I was singing the same old part that I'd always sung. The girls in the audience were going mad, screaming and dancing and clapping. It was actually quite surprising. I hadn't expected them to be so enthusiastic, considering Manson had fallen from popularity two years ago.
When we'd finished we waved again and Oprah said she'd be back talking to us again in a moment. The prop guys rearranged the furniture so that we could sit down and we all made ourselves comfortable in the few seconds we had before we were back on air. I could see the prop guys beckoning everyone to cheer as the show came back on air.
"Well," Oprah said. "It's been a while since we've had Manson on the show and a lot of things have happened since then. Manson fell from popularity two years ago because of Tweedle-Tay's disappearance, which was apparently because of his girlfriend." The audience began to boo. "Well there was a new girl in his life and she was, just like they said, seventeen, with blonde hair and blue eyes and she was, indeed, *very* pretty." The audience booed loudly. "But never fear girls, because that girl was -" Oprah looked at me.
"My twin sister Michaela," I said helpfully. Michaela gave a little wave to the audience.
The audience had stopped booing and now looked confused. We chatted with Oprah, explaining everything that had happened and the audience sat there in silence, not laughing, not crying, just looking totally, utterly, dumbfounded. We told them about the attic, about our dramatic weight loss, about the boredom, about our parents' incest, about Grubbery's coma. We basically told them everything important except about the time that Michaela and I had.... (Grubbery didn't even know about that) and we didn't tell them about our revenge plan. The whole time Oprah was nodding along sympathetically and not really allowing us to answer her question properly. When we'd finished explaining Oprah said that we'd be back in a moment playing one of our new songs, 'Baby Girl'.
We walked over to the new set and I set myself up at the drums. Grubbery went to the guitar and Michaela went to the keyboards. It was a complete rearrangement of what Manson used to be, but Michaela could only play the keyboards (and not that well, either) and I couldn't play the guitar, so... When we came back on air we began to play the song, with me singing lead vocals and Michaela and Grubbery doing the harmonies. I felt a little bit sorry for Michaela, I knew she hated the song, but I thought it was good.
What was going on between Michaela and myself? I shouldn't feel attracted to her, I was going out with Alisha, who was very beautiful.... But Michaela was prettier. Not that Michaela's prettiness made it okay. I mean, she was my *sister*. The whole thing was disgusting. But... we felt something for each other. Maybe it was still there, from the attic.
When the song finished there was another commercial break. We all walked back to the interview set and sat down with Oprah. When the show started again Oprah talked about the pain that we must have gone through in the attic and invited the audience to ask questions. Now was the time. We'd finally find out what they thought of the parents.
Within seconds several girls had raised their hands. Oprah called on a girl wearing a green track-suit jumper and a big green hat with a flower in the middle. She stood up, looking quite pleased with herself, and asked, "I would like to know if the Mansons have a curfew."
A curfew? Hadn't she been paying attention for the past half an hour? We all sat there in shock. Grubbery came to his senses first and answered, "No, Michaela and Tweedle-Tay live by themselves in Beverly Hills and I'm going there with them soon, so....."
"We don't need to impose curfews on each other," Michaela finished off for him.
Next Oprah called on a girl wearing a Manson T-shirt and jeans. "What colour are your toothbrushes?" she asked.
"Aqua," I managed to choke out, disgusted at the question, but smiling anyway.
"Green," Grubbery replied.
"Purple," Michaela said.
Oprah then called on a girl wearing a pink boob tube and aqua skirt. It was Gwen, who looked very excited. "Hi Tweedle-Tay!" she said, waving at me. I waved back, and Michaela did too. Grubbery just raised his eyebrows. "I live in LA, home of the stars, and I went to school with Tweedle-Tay and Michaela for six months." She paused and smiled. "Tay and I were best friends. I kissed him. It was *really* good. Anyway, I was wondering what sort of qualities you look for in a girl?"
"I don't look for a girl," Michaela quipped.
"Uh, human?" Grubbery suggested.
"Nice...." I said, lying. The truth was pretty. Pretty and bubbly. Alisha.... and Michaela. God, I was a freak.
The questions didn't get any better. Although we got asked heaps, none of them had anything to do with the attic. They were all to do with girlfriends and social lives. We left the stage having hardly achieved anything. We walked backstage, where Sophie was sitting, looking up at the monitor. "You guys did a good job," she said nicely.
"Thanks," I said. I looked up at the monitor. Oprah was back on the air. She was asking the audience what they thought of us.
"That Tweedle-Tay is very nice looking. *Very* nice indeed. And Grubbery, what a cutie!"
Was that all they had to say?
I looked over at Michaela, who could see what I was thinking. She shrugged and smiled wryly. "What did you expect?" she asked. "They *are* Manson fans."
April 24th, 2000 - Chicago, Illinois
"Do you want your hair up or down?" the make-up artist asked me, playing with my hair.
"Down," I replied firmly.
I could see her make a face in the mirror. "Maybe we should wash it first. It's a little greasy."
I walked over to the basin and let the woman wash my hair. "What's your name?" I asked, trying to be friendly.
"Sophie," she replied, running the water through my hair.
"Mine's-" I began.
"I know," she said, cutting me off. "It's Tweedle-Tay." She paused. "Are you nervous?" she asked.
"A little," I admitted. Sophie beckoned for me to stand up and I walked back to the make-up chair. "It's been ages since I've been on television and now when I'm going on, it's because...."
Sophie looked sympathetic as she began to blow-dry my hair. "I know, I heard." She sighed. "It really is terrible that anyone could do that sort of thing to their own child." She paused and made an effort to smile. "But I'll be watching you on the monitors, rooting for you."
"Thanks," I said gratefully.
Sophie finished brushing my hair. "There," she said, pleased with her work. "You look much better now. You do have good hair you know, a nice colour..... And now, the make-up.... You'll just need a foundation, to cover those zits -"
Well, that was a confidence booster.
"And some lipgloss. Standard male make-up."
Sophie and I made small talk until she had finished the make-up. Then it was Grubbery's turn. I thanked her and made my way down the hallway to look for Michaela, who was probably in wardrobe. As I made my way down the hallway I heard a voice call out from behind me. "TJ!"
It was Alisha. I turned around and sure enough, there she was, looking beautiful as always, in black Capri pants and a blue knit top. "Alisha!" I called, running towards her in excitement. We hugged and kissed. It had been so long since I'd kissed Alisha, almost a month. "You look.... stunning..." I said, looking her up and down.
"Likewise," she said. She licked her lips. "Strawberry flavoured lipgloss," she observed. "They sure do make you up here."
I smiled. "I guess you're wondering why I invited you here....." I began.
Alisha nodded. "Well, I did at first but -" She paused. "I don't live in a hole, Tweedle-Tay," she said emphatically. "There've been ads on TV all week - that's how they got the studio audience, who, I have to tell you, are a bunch of freaks."
"So, you don't mind?" I asked.
Alisha looked thoughtful. "Well, I don't mind that you're Tweedle- Tay Manson, although God knows I hated him..... but I do mind that you lied to me like this." She pouted. "Don't you trust me, Tweedle-Tay?"
"Of course I trust you!" I protested.
Alisha shook her head. "I don't think you do. Your sister *was* Michaela Morgan, wasn't she?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
"You didn't even tell me that." Alisha was starting to look pissed off. "You see, Tweedle-Tay, I think trust is the most important aspect of a relationship." She laughed. "That's probably why I have such a shit relationship with my parents. But you didn't trust me. Basically, the entire personality you threw at me was a lie...."
"So you're saying?"
"Well, if there's no trust, there's no relationship. So we didn't really have a relationship." Alisha kissed me softly on the lips. "Thanks for the ticket to Chicago though."
"That's okay," I said quietly. I took her hand. "I'm really sorry I lied to you, Alisha," I said earnestly. "But I had to. You'll understand why when you watch the show. Then you'll understand. And then, we can get back together?"
Alisha shrugged and smiled. "Maybe," she said weakly. "I'll have to see."
"Maybe?" I asked, sadly. "Please.... Alisha, I love you...." I leant down and kissed her.
"We'll see," Alisha pulled away. "I'll see you later." And with that she walked down the hallway towards the studio.
I walked down the hallway too, towards wardrobe. When I arrived there I was handed black leather pants and a tight black top. It was a cool outfit. Stylists had great taste. I got changed into the clothes and walked out to the backstage area, where Michaela was sitting, biting her fingernails.
"Don't do that," I said cheerfully, sitting next to her. "You'll chip your nail polish."
Michaela looked up at me and smiled. "I'm not biting my fingernails," she said. "I'm biting my fingers. My nail polish won't get chipped that way."
"Are you nervous about the singing?" I asked her.
She shrugged. "I don't know. I've heard that this was pretty heavily advertised on television. I'm a little worried about all those people hearing me. I mean, we're even on prime time, which is pretty unusual - that's why I made them let me chose my own clothes -" Michaela gestured towards her black leather mini-skirt and tight red shirt. She looked at my clothes. "We're going to look like a S&M group...." she said, giggling. "No, I'm worried about the revenge plan."
"What about it?" I asked. I thought the revenge plan was going great.
"Well, what if this show doesn't work out? What if everyone thinks we're in the wrong? What if our parents sue us for defamation? What is they decide to kill us instead? What if-??" Michaela began to list all of her worries.
I smiled to myself. "Michaela, you're always freaking out like this, but does anything bad actually ever happen?"
Michaela frowned. "Well, yes, it does. We got locked up in an attic and Grubbery went into a coma. Those are just two bad things that have happened. You're the one who worries about silly things, like people thinking you're gay and the attic getting flooded with blood!" Michaela began to laugh at the silliness of it all.
"Kay, I think everyone's going to be on our side. Our parents are 1000% in the wrong and you know it. I think even *they* know it," I explained.
Michaela nodded. "You're right there Tay. I know it's a little late to be saying this, but what is the point of us doing this? How are we going to find happiness by going on the -" Michaela paused and a made a face "-Oprah Winfrey show?"
"Our parents will get punished the way that they deserve," I replied. "Then we can get on with our lives."
"But what if we can't?" she persisted. "What if we just stay like this forever? What if our innocence has been destroyed so much that we -"
"Michaela, you're being silly. This is all inside you're head. We're going to be happy. Aren't we always happy together?" I asked. "Don't we have fun?"
Michaela nodded. "Most of the time...." There was a silence. I looked at Michaela. She looked back at me. "We do get along...." she said softly. I moved closer to her. She looked down at her skirt and then back up at me. "Maybe too well..." she said, leaning over.
We kissed. And kissed. And kissed. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Michaela quickly pulled away. "We're going on the Oprah Winfrey show," she said excitedly, as though nothing had happened.
Grubbery walked into the room. "Hi guys!" he said, sitting down next to us. "What have you been up to?"
"Nothing," Michaela replied, a little too quickly.
"Nothing," I said, just as quickly. "Why would you think that we'd been up to something?"
Grubbery looked at us, surprised. "No reason. Are you excited?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
"Hopefully we'll get asked better questions this time than we did last time," he added.
"Well, you do have something important to talk about now," Michaela said.
"Yeah, although it's not exactly-" I was cut off by a tall man who came running into the room.
"Kids, you're going on in about thirty seconds," he said, catching his breath. He led us to the opening of the stage. "All set?" he asked. He didn't wait for us to reply. "When she says Manson and all the girls start to scream, you guys run on and start to sing. Okay?" He ran off.
"I love it how they treat us with so much respect," Michaela said sarcastically. I didn't have time to reply because within a couple of seconds the screaming had begun. We ran out onto the stage and waved. When we got to the microphones we began to sing 'MMMPop' a capella. It sounded pretty good. Michaela had a higher voice than Grubbery had had at eleven, so she was actually better than he had been at hitting the high notes. Grubbery could do Neuton's part easily. And I was singing the same old part that I'd always sung. The girls in the audience were going mad, screaming and dancing and clapping. It was actually quite surprising. I hadn't expected them to be so enthusiastic, considering Manson had fallen from popularity two years ago.
When we'd finished we waved again and Oprah said she'd be back talking to us again in a moment. The prop guys rearranged the furniture so that we could sit down and we all made ourselves comfortable in the few seconds we had before we were back on air. I could see the prop guys beckoning everyone to cheer as the show came back on air.
"Well," Oprah said. "It's been a while since we've had Manson on the show and a lot of things have happened since then. Manson fell from popularity two years ago because of Tweedle-Tay's disappearance, which was apparently because of his girlfriend." The audience began to boo. "Well there was a new girl in his life and she was, just like they said, seventeen, with blonde hair and blue eyes and she was, indeed, *very* pretty." The audience booed loudly. "But never fear girls, because that girl was -" Oprah looked at me.
"My twin sister Michaela," I said helpfully. Michaela gave a little wave to the audience.
The audience had stopped booing and now looked confused. We chatted with Oprah, explaining everything that had happened and the audience sat there in silence, not laughing, not crying, just looking totally, utterly, dumbfounded. We told them about the attic, about our dramatic weight loss, about the boredom, about our parents' incest, about Grubbery's coma. We basically told them everything important except about the time that Michaela and I had.... (Grubbery didn't even know about that) and we didn't tell them about our revenge plan. The whole time Oprah was nodding along sympathetically and not really allowing us to answer her question properly. When we'd finished explaining Oprah said that we'd be back in a moment playing one of our new songs, 'Baby Girl'.
We walked over to the new set and I set myself up at the drums. Grubbery went to the guitar and Michaela went to the keyboards. It was a complete rearrangement of what Manson used to be, but Michaela could only play the keyboards (and not that well, either) and I couldn't play the guitar, so... When we came back on air we began to play the song, with me singing lead vocals and Michaela and Grubbery doing the harmonies. I felt a little bit sorry for Michaela, I knew she hated the song, but I thought it was good.
What was going on between Michaela and myself? I shouldn't feel attracted to her, I was going out with Alisha, who was very beautiful.... But Michaela was prettier. Not that Michaela's prettiness made it okay. I mean, she was my *sister*. The whole thing was disgusting. But... we felt something for each other. Maybe it was still there, from the attic.
When the song finished there was another commercial break. We all walked back to the interview set and sat down with Oprah. When the show started again Oprah talked about the pain that we must have gone through in the attic and invited the audience to ask questions. Now was the time. We'd finally find out what they thought of the parents.
Within seconds several girls had raised their hands. Oprah called on a girl wearing a green track-suit jumper and a big green hat with a flower in the middle. She stood up, looking quite pleased with herself, and asked, "I would like to know if the Mansons have a curfew."
A curfew? Hadn't she been paying attention for the past half an hour? We all sat there in shock. Grubbery came to his senses first and answered, "No, Michaela and Tweedle-Tay live by themselves in Beverly Hills and I'm going there with them soon, so....."
"We don't need to impose curfews on each other," Michaela finished off for him.
Next Oprah called on a girl wearing a Manson T-shirt and jeans. "What colour are your toothbrushes?" she asked.
"Aqua," I managed to choke out, disgusted at the question, but smiling anyway.
"Green," Grubbery replied.
"Purple," Michaela said.
Oprah then called on a girl wearing a pink boob tube and aqua skirt. It was Gwen, who looked very excited. "Hi Tweedle-Tay!" she said, waving at me. I waved back, and Michaela did too. Grubbery just raised his eyebrows. "I live in LA, home of the stars, and I went to school with Tweedle-Tay and Michaela for six months." She paused and smiled. "Tay and I were best friends. I kissed him. It was *really* good. Anyway, I was wondering what sort of qualities you look for in a girl?"
"I don't look for a girl," Michaela quipped.
"Uh, human?" Grubbery suggested.
"Nice...." I said, lying. The truth was pretty. Pretty and bubbly. Alisha.... and Michaela. God, I was a freak.
The questions didn't get any better. Although we got asked heaps, none of them had anything to do with the attic. They were all to do with girlfriends and social lives. We left the stage having hardly achieved anything. We walked backstage, where Sophie was sitting, looking up at the monitor. "You guys did a good job," she said nicely.
"Thanks," I said. I looked up at the monitor. Oprah was back on the air. She was asking the audience what they thought of us.
"That Tweedle-Tay is very nice looking. *Very* nice indeed. And Grubbery, what a cutie!"
Was that all they had to say?
I looked over at Michaela, who could see what I was thinking. She shrugged and smiled wryly. "What did you expect?" she asked. "They *are* Manson fans."
